


For Good Fortune

by Laylah



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, M/M, Wedding Banquet, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:41:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23729962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laylah/pseuds/Laylah
Summary: The songs, the dances, the traditional dishes—all have ritual significance, wishes for good fortune and bounty, charms for health and happiness. Percival is often impatient with ceremony, but for once he finds himself able to sit at ease.
Relationships: Aglovale/Percival (Granblue Fantasy)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 17
Collections: Flash In The Pan: A Food Flash Exchange





	For Good Fortune

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Welsper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Welsper/gifts).



The wedding banquet lasts for hours, showing off all the bounty of Wales, and between courses are performers come to entertain the lucky couple and all their guests. The songs, the dances, the traditional dishes—all have ritual significance, wishes for good fortune and bounty, charms for health and happiness. Percival is often impatient with ceremony, but for once he finds himself able to sit at ease, his hand clasped in Aglovale's as they watch the swirling bright skirts of a dance troupe. The last course they had was a honeyed, flaky pastry whose many thin layers are supposed to represent the many years of a successful union. They fed each other in small, perfect bites and the soft warmth of Aglovale's lips made Percival's fingers tingle.

The final offering of the night is given to the couple alone: a tea of earthy herbs and warming spices, brought to them in a single dish on a silver tray. Aglovale smiles at Percival as he lifts the dish and takes a sip, then passes it to him. This ritual is perhaps the least applicable of any of them, as its purpose is to ensure a couple's fertility, but Percival drinks all the same. The tea is warm and stimulating and he's grateful that the people of Wales want to show their kings every courtesy.

They pass the dish back and forth until they've drunk it all, and then stand to tip the dish and show it empty. Their subjects cheer. Aglovale takes Percival's hand and raises their joined hands together, and the cheering grows louder. Percival smiles. All the journeying he's done, and the kingdom he believed in was here all along.

The heat of the banquet—and of that tea, in particular—stays with him as they make their way, escorted by knights, to the royal suite. It makes him dizzy and restless, so that when Aglovale claims his mouth in a kiss and sets about stripping off his dress uniform, Percival can only assist with fumbling, needy hands. When Aglovale lays him out on the bed, _their_ bed, and tastes every inch of his skin as though he himself is the banquet's final course, Percival can only moan and arch toward his every touch. And when Aglovale settles above him and takes him, pale hair spilling loose in a shimmering curtain around their faces, Percival can only be utterly, thoroughly undone.

Afterward, they lie loosely entwined, sweat-sticky and catching their breath. Percival thinks he can still smell the spices of that tea, somewhere. Ensuring fertility indeed.

"What are you smiling about?" Aglovale asks.

"The banquet," Percival says; it's easier than a long explanation. "Do you think they've wished us enough good fortune to stick?"

"I'm certain of it." Aglovale reaches over to tuck a loose strand of hair behind Percival's ear. "You're here with me, and that's the greatest fortune I could hope for."


End file.
